Rule of Thumb

 

Ever have the feeling that you're being silently observed? Looking around expecting to catch somebody and stare back at them but there's nothing to see, only you and you feel like you're being seen. These watchers seem to come and go. A strong sense of them and a shudder of panic and then it's over. Some stranger in the distance, walking away from you now , or so you imagine. It can't be police or security either, they haven't the time or the interest. You're not a criminal anyway.  Well maybe in your thoughts and you know your own boundaries there.

 

You're guilty of nothing. Nothing apart from a sense of a ripple in your Karma that's unpleasant. Perhaps you're not as real as you thought, more a mixture of wraith or fleshy spirit. What are you anyway? It could be you morph, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly as you live your life. In and out of phase you go, along with reality. Who is at the controls anyway?

Queens lie dead in cathedrals. Meanwhile a courtier places a peculiar hat and garland on an ugly beast who's behaviour may be unpredictable. One of the courtier's hands has already been bitten off. Crowds gather to stare but they don't know what they are looking at and they'll remember little of it tomorrow. There will be a new pauper's banquet laid out for them, more visual than physical however so the good people remain hungry but satisfied that for a brief moment they were given some attention. Banner headlines shout in telling whispers as they search for themselves in banks of images, it's the rule of thumb.